


Every Breath you Take

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drama, During Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-10
Updated: 2006-10-10
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:59:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8701993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: These two things are canon: Dean gets thrown into walls on a regular basis and Sam gets choked a lot. I wrote about Dean and walls in "If walls could talk." So I figured I should write one some of the times Sam got choked during his life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title** : Every breath you take

**Author** : [](http://missyjack.livejournal.com/profile)[**missyjack**](http://missyjack.livejournal.com/)

**Rating:** NC-17

**Pairing:** Sam/Dean

**Genre:** Wincest, Sam-centric

**Words:** 1,954

**Warnings:** slight non-con and erotic asphyxiation

**Disclaimer:** Me own the Winchesters? In my sweet sweet dreams.

**Summary:** These two things are canon: Dean gets thrown into walls on a regular basis and Sam gets choked a lot. I wrote about Dean and walls in If walls could talk. So I figured I should write one some of the times Sam got choked during his life.

**  
**A/N:****  This was previously posted in a Gen version; this is the version with extra tasty Wincest. 

Sammy’s giant ball of angst is a registered trademark of [](http://moonythestrals.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://moonythestrals.livejournal.com/)**moonythestrals**. (well if it isn’t it should be)  
  
  
 

 

Sam was six months old when he first experienced the sensation of not being able to breathe. 

 

Until that moment, Sammy’s life was pretty good. His mother sang to him and smelt good and whispered secrets to him. Sam drank warm milk from her soft breasts and got rocked to sleep. 

 

He hardly ever had to let her know when he needed something and when he did, because he was hot or wet, she responded quickly and gently with loving words. Sam found ways of letting her know he loved her, with gurgles and smiles and by squinting his eyes, all of which got her to make her happy face. 

 

He’d been working on sounds, which she seemed to like the best. He went to sleep one night deciding to try out his new sound on her tomorrow. The next time he saw her, she was looking down on him. He was hot and smoke tickled his nose. He tried to give her the present of his new sound. But suddenly he was picked up, wrapped in his blanket and taken outside. He never saw her again, and he choked on the two syllables that stuck in his throat. 

 

Mama.

 

 

&&&&&&

 

Dean knew you could never be too careful. 

 

Dad had taught him to always lay the salt lines at the doors and windows, keep his amulet on and keep shooting until you ran out of bullets. But Dean had another protection that was all his own idea. Dad had read to him about the different things people used here and in far away places to stop evil. Then Dean had found them, gathered all together in a box with a picture of a little dude in green on the front – who come to think of it looked a bit like Sammy. There were stars and clovers and moons and rainbows. So he figured eating _Lucky Charms_ must help protect you from the inside, and any way they tasted way great. But while Dean knew it was his job to protect his little brother inside and out, Sammy seemed to get more than his fair share of _Lucky Charms_ protection. It was always a bit of a race between them to get the last bowl from a pack. 

 

One day Dean had slept late because he’d been up most of the night in case Dad came home. When he wandered out to the kitchen, Sammy looked up and started scoffing the mountain of cereal in his bowl. He looked over at Dean with a multi-colored cheeky grin, his eyes wide. And then his eyes got wider and he lifted a hand to his throat. Dean was about to employ one of his pet names like butthead or skunk breath when he realized Sam wasn’t mucking around. Dean rushed over and started slapping Sam hard on the back. As Sammy’s face went red, he turned his face to Dean, his eyes pleading. Dean hit Sam as hard as he could and suddenly a gooey slaggy mess was expelled from Sam’s throat. The two of them slumped to the floor, both breathing heavily. 

 

Dean bought Froot Loops after that.

 

&&&&&&

 

Sam was on his knees, his mouth around Dean’s cock in an act of contrition. He knew _sorry_ or _I’ll try harder_ wouldn’t cut it. And if he was honest, as he worked his lips and tongue along Dean’s shaft, he knew Dean wouldn’t forgive him - because he didn’t blame him to start with. Sam looked up at Dean, who was examining three long gashes in his arm by the light of the moon.

 

Dad had already reamed Dean out for being careless and that stung more than the scratches. No mind that it was Sam’s fault - that was not how the chain of command worked. Sam fucked up but it was Dean’s responsibility. 

 

Sam wrapped a hand around the base of Dean’s cock, and kissed the swollen head before sucking it hard into his mouth. Dean groaned and relaxed slightly, leaning back against the barn door. Sammy was assiduous in his training, skilled with his weapons. It was just that he tended to think if a strategy had worked one time, it would work the next. Dean wondered how he could get the message through to Sam that in the hunt wasn’t always predictable. 

 

As Dean started to move with the rhythm of Sam’s mouth, Sam could tell he was getting close to blowing. Sam went to pull back, to finish Dean off with his hand as he always did, but he felt a hand hard against his head holding him down. Dean started thrusting more deeply and Sam gagged as Dean’s cock pushed into his throat. When he came, Sam had to concentrate on swallowing so as not to choke. 

 

When he was finally released, Sam looked up a Dean with questioning eyes. Dean wiped a finger across Sam’s come smeared lips, and after sucking thoughtfully on it for a moment said:

 

”Always expect the unexpected Sammy.”

 

&&&&&&

 

As Sam got older he learnt that your family can suffocate you. 

 

The argument had been going for over an hour. Sam and John paced around the room, around each other. The air was thick with words usually left unsaid, better left unsaid. Dean sat staring out the window, flicking his Zippo open and closed.

 

“Its just college.”

 

“You could just walk out on us Sam; leave your brother and me?”

 

“Don’t you want me to have a normal life?”

 

 “After all I’ve taught you Sam? You’ve got valuable skills and you’re part of this fight.”

 

“Shit Dad, I am not your grunt! I am sick of playing soldier in your damn ghost war!”

 

 “You think you can just turn your back on what we do, knowing people might die? Knowing that what killed your mother is still out there?”

 

“Don’t you fucking…You bastard. That’s not fucking fair!”

 

“Watch your mouth Sammy.”

 

“Why? What are you going to do? Ground me? I’m not asking your permission to go Dad. I’m telling you what I’m going to do. Dean, haven’t you got anything to say? Not like you not to want to tell me what you think.”

 

“What do you want me to say? You obviously don’t care what I think. If you did you might have mentioned this college thing, you know, more than a couple of hours before you leave.”

 

“Look I need to do this. Staying here it’s, it’s just not what I want. Can’t you understand?”

 

“Sam, you leave us now fine. Go to college, do what you want. But don’t think you can come back. You leave you now are out of this for good.”

 

Rage and self-pity constricted Sam’s throat. He held his father’s gaze as he struggled for air. He waited for his father to help him, to say something so he could breathe again. He looked to Dean, who refused to meet his eyes. When John remained silent, Sam left. 

 

It was only when he was outside that he gasped in a chestful of air. And another. 

 

Until he was breathing deeply in a series of ragged sobs.

 

 

&&&&&&

 

After Sam had known Jess for five months he nearly choked on _I love you._ It stuck in his throat like a fish bone that he could neither cough up nor swallow. 

 

He knew how he felt, knew the words were true, was even pretty sure Jess would give them a good home. But he felt a sense of foreboding that he couldn’t shake and couldn’t convince himself was first love nerves. 

 

Finally, as they sat watching some documentary about yaks on the Discovery Channel, Jess kissed him and said “I love you Sam”. “I love you too Jess” said Sam, the words coming free but not the sense that one of them would regret this.

 

&&&&&&

 

Sam was nearly strangled by irony, in his old house in Lawrence. Well, truth be told it was a lamp cord possessed by a poltergeist, but as it choked the life out of him he was struck by the irony of dying while trying to save people in the same house he had nearly died in 20 years ago. Lack of oxygen soon banished that thought as his fingers clawed uselessly at the cord around his throat. His world went grey and then dark …

 

 

…until a rush of air filled his lungs, and he felt arms holding him close and another chest breathing alongside his. 

 

&&&&&&

 

“Are you sure about this Sammy? “

 

When Sam had first mentioned this Dean’s response had been “Are you freaking crazy?” As if what they did wasn’t fucked up enough to start with. Dean didn’t like talking about it at all because it made it too real, and the fact that Sam had been thinking about it this much, doing research for christsake, freaked him out.

 

“You know I am Dean. Do it”.

 

Sam felt a slight pulse in his ass as Dean moved more deeply inside him. Supporting his weight on one arm, Dean placed two fingers under Sam’s chin, above his Adam’s apple, on his windpipe. He hadn’t expected Dean to understand why why he wanted, no, needed to do this. It was his way of showing Dean what he was prepared to give him, that his need for Dean was as great as Dean’s for him. 

 

Dean started thrusting into Sam, and at the same time increased the pressure of his fingers against Sam’s throat. As agreed, Sam rested a hand on one of Dean’s biceps. If he wanted Dean to stop he could just squeeze and, if he passed out, Dean would know as soon as his hand fell away. Well that was the theory.

 

Lack of air caused the edges of Sam’s world to turn to twilight. He was aware of the fullness of Dean’s cock pumping inside him, or was it him engulfing Dean? As his consciousness receded further, the boundaries between _him_ and _me_ blurred. 

 

As Sam ran out of air, he looked into Dean’s eyes and felt himself falling, as if into the infinity of the sky. Dean looked back into the dark, blown pupils. He released his fingers from Sam’s throat and moved his mouth millimetres from his lips. From Sam’s place in the sky he felt a warm breeze. And with his first breath Sam whispered his promise “Always”. 

 

 

&&&&&&

 

 

“You mean, why’d I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You know, I never told you this, but Sam was gonna ask her to marry him. Been shoppin’ for rings and everything. You wanna know why? Because they got in the way.”

 

“In the way of what? “

 

“My plans for you, Sammy—you….and all the children like you.”

 

Sam couldn’t move. 

 

He was pinned to the wall opposite Dean, while the demon used their father. 

 

It was his entire fault, all this. Mom, Jess, Dad, Dean. He’d never understood that Dad and Dean were fighting not just to kill something but to save him. 

 

As he watched his brother plead for his life, blood pouring through invisible wound, guilt crushed Sam’s chest and he struggled to call out Dean’s name. Suddenly he was released from the wall and he grabbed the Colt. His father and Dean lay on the floor. 

 

He had both these men to thank for every breath he’d taken over the past 21 years. 

 

He had to save them. 

 

 

&&&&&&

 

 

A poltergeist, a shtriga, a giant ball of angst and Dean walk into a bar. They sit at the bar, next to a rather fetching lamp, have a few drinks and talk about the times they choked Sam Winchester. 

 


End file.
